Coven: Male Supreme
by juliamwright
Summary: Me versis seventy-four hormone-ridden girls? No. Me versis seventy-four hormone-ridden, wich girls? Ahaha, nada. But me versis seventy-four hormone-ridden, bichy-wich girls livin' under the same roof as me? As my mama said when I's wantid to kill th'cat to see if I can Vitalum-Vitalis it back- oh heeeeelllla no.
1. Introduction

"_Due to the loss of our beloved Supreme Witch, Cordelia Goode, Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies will be under new management," _The sound of my mother choking on her own tears felt like bullets pounding into my chest.

It hurts to see your own mother cry. It wasn't long after Fiona Goode had died of cancer, that soon young witches would want to kill the new Supreme to take power. Once the Academy's rooms were filled, she had filed to transfer young ladies, newly coming in, to other institutions around the country; sometimes the world if she couldn't find any. The farthest we ever placed anyone was Amsterdam, Miss Louise Beaux, a common woman from Oklahoma. Or, at least, as far as I heard the secretaries' thoughts, or even more reliable, my mother's.

I was four years old when I first saw her cry, and that was when; when Auntie Delia was found murdered. Auntie was like a second Ma to my Ma after she was brought here. It's funny when you think of the story that my Mama told me of how she got here. Mama's cursed, you see: her precious little witches' pot killed whoever dare entered it. Even funnier, too, 'cause she was a virgin until after she met my Daddy. 'Cause my Daddy was special, Mama said.

Little did I know my Daddy was kind of a zombie. Well, not really, with all the rottin' parts and all that paraphernalia (because who would wanna take a roll in the hay with a rotten love muscle, huh? My Mama was better 'en that. I thought he was like that, too, until I was nine.) At first he was, though: He died in an accident the night Mama met 'im, but then, Mama took her friend and brought 'im on back like kneading bread dough. _Push forward, pound, pull back, repeat. _Only it was once- I ain't so good with them similes or metaphors or whatever you call 'em.

"_And, with our new reigning Supreme, Miss Queenie-" _Aunt Queenie preferred to stay unnamed, last-name wise. Her family didn't appreciate what she was, so she's just Queenie. "_will co-administrate this institution with me." _

The young ladies clapped in respect, lit their candles for our lady's funeral (they preferred it personal and inside. Cremation burns away the bad that one put onto them, Mama told me,) and continued to their rooms for prayer and worship, maybe givin' blood to help Delia make it in Hell. That's what Regina told me what they do.

"_We's givin' blood so Miss Goode can have some support in Hell." _She says. I's was four, so I was confused.

"_Auntie was a nice lady." _I wiped my face of tears. "_Why doesn't go to the good place?"_

"_Sweety, there ain't no good place. If there was, we'd be there already. All of us, not just us magicks." _Regina hugged me and quickly scurried away before Daddy could come by and yell at her for poisoning my mind with trauma of death.

He didn't want me to remember such a dreadful thing this young; thing is, I couldn't forgit it. I wasn't allowed to forgit it, an' you know why? 'Cause I'm Victor-Salem Spencer. And I was gon' be the first male Supreme ever. An' to do good in the future, you need to know the dark of the past.


	2. Chapter 1: Birth

I was born as Victor-Salem Spencer, into an- uh, odd family. Not really a family if you think about it, just a whole school of witches and a zombie. 'Parently Mama's curse didn't kill him. _Dead can't kill the dead, _Aunt Queenie told me. That was basically the only meaningful thing she ever said to me, besides the fact that she would never allow me to work at _Chubbie's_, her literal living hell. Not kiddin', 'cause when she was doin' the Seven Wonders, they had to go to their Hell in the process of Decensum, or somethin' like what Mama said. Queenie made it back first, 'cause she done did it before.

Anyway, I'm always gettn' off. I was born in Miss Robichaux's Academy, New Orleans. I came out kickin' and screamin' soon after Auntie Delia came into power. Well, not really, you see, 'cause I's died soon after, but she brought me back, since Mama was too weak from birthin' me. I came out fussing, and soon I died; somethin' like heart failure, Mama told me that's what Regina told her. Prob'ly, considering I was freaking out like some spawn of Hell (Mama would smack me for that; she knows Hell is real and don't mess around.) That'd take anyone out, let alone a weak little pup. 'Specially since Daddy's dead (sort of, can't tell at this point,) and Mama's curse.

They was scared I was gonna die right there in the oven; burn the bun to a crisp and feed to the ravens. Regina told Mama that she wouldn't let it happen, 'cause she newly acquired Resurgence, next to her clairvoyance an' she was only eight an' bein' silly. She only brought back a bird, not a human. Queenie said she wouldn't doubt it; Daddy's walking dead (agin, sort of) and Mama's cooch lets nothing enter or leave. But for some reason, that I am grateful for, I lived and actually came out healthy, before I died and _Vitalum Vitalis _was used.

They also said my heart was a little small, but it'd get bigger, and it has. I could run without heaving and I could sleep without Mama sitting next to my bed, sobbing that I was gon' die. But that was the past, when I was born, and I'm alive. Daddy says it is good to know the past, but not good to dwell on it too much. I think he's right.


	3. Chapter 2: Virgins

I wake up in bed. Cold sweat. Stark naked from bein' too hot, though Mama would yell at me to get clothes on, considerin' the 74 hormone-ridden girls in this facility, and I was 'the only meat,' because Mama put down a 'No Outsiders' policy unless it was discussed. Funny how when the world starts acceptin' you, you shut 'em out. I guess I just don't git it. I'm a guy, yet apparently I'm 'the most harmless little boy' so she don't got to worry about me. I swears there were a few girls comin' in now and then to watch me sleep, 'cause I can hear their thoughts even while sleepin'. It was kinda entertainin' at first, seein' all them pretty ladies an' hearin' what they said they'd do to me, but then got very creepy when the numbers multiplied. I knew there was no point in a lock 'cause they's witches; they gon' open it up either way.

I shake my head out of my thoughts and slide out of bed, immediately pulling my boxers on to make sure none of the creepy ones were watchin'. I hear giggling from outside the door, and I make the door lock, though it's pointless. I guess it just makes me feel better in my head. I slip on a pair of jeans and one of my shirts. I go to button it, but before I could start buttoning, there's a girl standing in front of me, already buttoning me up.

"Just thought you'd want assistance." She smile up at me, winking before finishing. "Don't want you breaking any of them, y'know.."

She lightly takes my hand and studies my fingers, more masculine rather than feminine like my Ma's. She put her face in it and I couldn't help but smile. I was trying to remember that all these ladies were temptresses, yet I couldn't ignore any of it. This one was the best of 'em, too; Claire Garrett. Real pretty, I tell you. Real pretty.

I wet my lip and shake my head. "Claire, don't you's got school?"

She laughs, lying down on my bed. "Yeh, but don't you?"

"Miss Lee ain't comin' today. She off on Fridays." I says. I unbutton the top button so I's don't feel like I'm bein' choked.

Mama has a tutor come for me, considerin' that I's been actin' 'weird' in school, when that was really just me gaining power. I's used to make the books come offa the shelves in first grade, 'cause I's too stupid to understand any'o it so I's got mad. I killed my teacher, actually. Miss Biggs was all naggy an' tellin' me that 'my kind' ain't the type for schoolin' with mortal kids. Coincidentally her lunch knife ended elsewhere- an' not to cut 'er steak. With the help of the administrators at Robichaux's to mindbend the office-folk, they let me off the hook and considered it a 'fatal accident.'

Accident my ass. I's a murderer and Mama and Auntie and Daddy know it. My thoughts leave me as Claire is behind me rubbing my shoulders. I grumble, "What you want?"

"I's thought you just needin' some...comfortin'." She kisses the nape of my neck.

I shrug her off. "I don't think this' a good idea. With the other ladies n' all, 'kay? Yer really pretty, Claire, an' I'm not saying yer not, but this isn't a good idea." I jump back on the bed and lie back, sighing. "Maybe some other time."

Christ, I'm givin' her ideas. Though, I admit, I do want it too. It's kinda hard, though, with 73 other girls n' my Dad and everyone else. It's a full house, an' the last thing I want to do is shake the boat. It's even sadder, too, 'cause I'm fifteen years old, in a house with basically any woman ever, an' I'm a virgin. I ain't sayin' I get to treat them like that (or want to,) it's just that Chris told me it was sad that I had all that yet did nothing. But Chris is a douche, has had the clap six times, and has utter vag-breath.

So he can't tell me how to entertain myself. Can he? Christ, it's makin' my head hurt. I open my eyes and mind and listen. No voices or thoughts, other than my Ma, Dad, an' Claire. Ma and Dad are in the shower together, from what I hear of their thoughts (*inhumane gross noises* JESUS WHY NOW) The ladies all went to school. How long has it been? No way they can all get to the boarding school this fast.

Claire is straddled on my lap. "They're gone, sweetheart. Any other 'cuses?"

"I-uh" I's panicking. I can't do this. I barely masturbate because I's scared of the clairvoyant ladies hearin' my thoughts, no matter how quiet I stay outside. I hit the emergency repel button: "I'm a virgin."

"All the more fun." She smiles. Claire starts to kiss my neck, an' I'm freaking out because half of me wants to give in and the other wants to shove her off, an' I don't hit ladies. "The virgins are the fun ones. They don't think they's boss. I'm boss."

"But I-"

"Sh!" She's got my lip zipped, literally. Manipulating one's mind is convenient, 'cept I can't do it. Not yet.


	4. Chapter 3: Mind Over Body

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I's knows what yer thinkin' _Christ sex in the first four chapters, how unholy _or whatever shit you's got on yer mind. I ain't Christian, though, we's respectin' the Earth around us and how Ma and Pop (Godess and God, but they're like a second set o' parents) made us how we are. Our bodies are our bodies and we will do whatever we please with them, unless we's hurting someone including ourselfs. We's called Pagans. I mean we're witches (and wizards) so that makes sense, right?

Anyway, I's gettin' off agin. Claire's got my in captivity, my lips zipped and controlling my mind, and I's don't want it. I grit my teeth, trying to control my speech and what's I gonna say but I can't fight it. What she's doin' to me feels good an' half of me don't want to stop. I's didn't know it was done, but she's got my damn willy in her mouth an' I can't help but let out noises that I didn't know I could make. _Mind o'er body._

"N-n…." I try to object but she shushes me, laughing very desperately. "N-no!"

"I said shuddup, Salem." She says, desperation clouding her eyes. She takes her hand an' starts doin' what I should be doin' alone. I twitch and convulse violently but she got me all hot n' that uncomfertible stuff. I mutter or shout a _NO _every now n' then, but otherwise I can't do nothin'. That's when it swiches up.

I get myself so worked up, that while I wet myself fer her (yeh she got me,) I end up sitting up and smacking the side o' her head. She out cold. I sit there in horror, my wite substance on her hair n' shirt and thinkin' 'bout what I just did. I just smacked a woman.


	5. Chapter 4: Mama's Punishin'

The scolds and yellin of my Mama are heard in the whole buildin', and they're mostly to me. She got ma ear n' draggin' me down the hallway to her office, an' Pop's got Claire's form. _She ain't dead I know it. _I'm forced down into a chair an' Mama unzips my lip. Like I haven't had enough o' that this morning. The words comin' out of her mouth don't go to my ears an' I don't listen. I just had somethin' happen to me for the first time an' I was excited yet mad as hell.

"Mama Claire came in an' I's was changin' an' then she started talkin' n' stuff an...an…" I stare off, tryin' to remember clearly. Whenever I's stressed out I can't remember jack 'bout what happened to make me stress. The head shrinker that comes weekly (more like daily there's so many o' us) for the girls told me that that was normal.

"And what, Vic?" She says, my face in her palm as she sits on the edge of her desk; just like Aunt Delia did. Daddy laid Claire down in the chair next t'me an she's wakin' up. Gotta be qwick.

"She's started touchin' me an' tellin' me the girls were gone an' I says that I like her an' thought she was cute but we can't do that an' then she made my lip zip like you did an' got me all paralised n' stuff an' then she started doin' stuff t'me." My eyes tear a little.

"Shush, Victor. What did she do to you?" My Mama asked agin.

"She started suckin' on my willy." I said, lookin' into her eyes and wonderin' why it felt good. "I thought it felt good but I kept tryin' to get her t'stop, an' I's took over and accidentally hit 'er to git her to leave me alone an' she just happend to nock out. I's sorry, Mama, I was scared."

"It's okay, Victor. We gotta charm that door of yours. I'll get Queenie to do it; she's better with the book than I am. I mean, look at your Pop." She chuckled at the little so-marks on my Daddy's arms an' throat.

Daddy died an' Mama had to so him back t'gether n' sell his soul to bring 'im back. He's harmless though. Funny ain't it? He only hurt when told t'hurt.

Claire woke up an' she's lookin' around an' sees me an' starts screamin' "RAPIST! THAT LIL' PERV TRIED T'TOUCH ME! HE THEN STARTED TOUCHIN' ME AN' KISSIN' ME AN' I'S TOLD HIM TO STO-"

My Mama zips _Claire's _lip this time an' she gets real. "Cut the shit, Claire. I can read your thoughts and I already talked to Victor."

Mama motions for my Daddy to get me outta there to eat somethin' or whatever. I'm rushed out an' we's in the kitchen. But even the silense charm on th'door don't block out the screamin' comin' from that room. God, my Mama's roothless. I can hear all th'insults an' how dissappointid she is in'er an that she's lookin' into punishment, whether it be expulsion-

-or burnin' at th'stake.


	6. Chapter 5: Robichaux Fever

Claire wasn't burnt, only sent home. Wich ment a real shitstorm for me. Once the girls found out about Claire, they all hated me. Not realy, just held a gruj for a few weeks, wich realy ment a few weeks o' sleepin' alone. I ain't complanin'. Not yet. Mama decided I's was safe enuff for _actual_ school. She said it was startin' in a few weeks, so that'd gimme time to cach up...even tho that's imposible. I has the nolledge of a furst grader. Not even.

She's was talkin' that I can be safe around other normal people. I don't even beleve that. The girl's school is all year round...so they's can't get frisky with the normal people. The school I's going to? I's gets three months off and nine months on. Sounds cool, I guess. Mama says I's can be trusted and that Chris goes to the school I's gonna go to. So I'd have help gettin' friends. Sence Mama's always busy, tho, she's gon' have Aunt Queenie teach me.

Queenie may not seem smart, but she's a freakin jeenyus. She's told me that I's just gotta work on my grammer like hell, otherwise my math skills are what she calls moderit an' that I'd just need to take a special class for that. They's could say I was a learnin' disability kid until I's caught up an then change their minds about it. Convenient how they's can do that. Convenient is a word she corrected me on spellin'. I'm usin' it right, now. Also, commas are another thing she's been showin' me.

I zone into thoughts, listening around me. I hear a conversation goin' between Queenie, Mama, an' Daddy.

"_Queenie, I don't want him goin' outside. We don't need another accident." _Mama's voice.

"_Zoe, it's been _years _since he's been outside; that boy looks like he's dyin', he's so pale. Last time he was outside, he was eight years old and playin' with Chris in the yard, _behind _the fence." _Aunt Queenie.

"_As he got frustrated and ended up hurting Chris." _I heard Mama in a stern voice. "_We don't need that again. I don't want Chris' Mom filing anything; she already let him loose that time 'cause she knows he didn't mean it and can't control himself."_

"_Zoe, Queenie's right. He hasn't even seen Chris in forever, since you've cut him down to phone calls and limited internet time." _Daddy. Who knew he'd take Queenie's side? I guess he's gettin' more human now.

I heard Mama sigh. "_He could end up killing someone."_

"_He can control himself!" _Queenie says angrily. "_You don't even trust that your own son won't hurt anyone! Give him a chance! If anything, he's dying of Cabin-no, Robichaux fever. If you're gonna let him go to public school, he's gotta learn how to act like a _human."

I tune out 'cause it's getting intense, going into my book to read. Soon, Mama turns over.

"HEY, SALEM!" Queenie calls up the steps. Everyone around here calls me by one of the two names...dependin' on how irritated they are with me. "GET DOWN HERE! WE AIN'T DONE AFTER ONE SESSION!"

I put my book down, _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone _(she's told me to start readin' books; they'd help my spellin' and that stuff. They're also actually really fun. This guy is a wizard like me,) and my feet patter down the long steps, failing to hide my excitement. I stand in front of her larger form, lookin' down at'er.

"Yes, Ma'am?" I's says. "We doin' more stuff, now?"

"Yes, Victor." She looks me up and down and her face crumples at my pajamas. "But get your ass dressed, we're going out."

My heart started beatin' a million miles an hour. I hasn't been outside in forever. I don't even remember what the road looks like, let alone an actual car that wasn't from them fancy, animated films. I run up the stairs, Queenie gasping at how fast I'm going. I run through my room in what seems like .5 seconds and come out in my jeans and shirt and sneakers. Queenie has her shoes and handbag on her arm.

She looks at my mama and says, "Now that's when you know your kid's gotta go out; when they take less than two minutes to get ready."

Mama looks like she's havin' a heart attack. She comes forward to me and hugs me. "You're gonna be alright, Victor." She smooths my bedhead of blonde hair down. "Just don't get mad, okay?"

_Don't get mad? I-_

"Just don't frustrate yourself." She looks at Auntie. "If he's getting worked up, and stuff starts happening, bring him home, _immediately_."

"I got you." Queenie nods. Why would they have to worry that I get angry?

"Mama, why would you have to worry?" I asked, looking in her eyes.

"You'll see, Victor." Daddy hugs me. "You'll know why."

"Check in over phone in an hour or two, fill me in on his stress-level, at least." Mama says, turning her ringer up.

And then, I was free.


End file.
